


finalé

by teacuptaako



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: BAMF Kravitz, Balance Arc, Character Undeath, F/M, Kravitz Goes To Work, M/M, Ride AND Die, Warlock Kravitz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 13:03:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16388231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuptaako/pseuds/teacuptaako
Summary: After everything, the distinction between alive and dead fades to a confusing grey.In the wake of ‘The Day of Story and Song,’ Taako and Kravitz start to build their futures together: a labour of love, compromise, trust, and a slowly unravelling web of secrecy.While the two of them grow closer and closer together, they and the rest of the world get further and further apart.





	finalé

**Author's Note:**

> this story is brought to you by really loud yelling into the unforgiving night! it's rated mature for frequent profanity and brief but fairly obvious sexual content, as well as darker themes addressed seriously in a way that canon just laughs off. baby's first 'major character death’ but the character doesn’t exit the story after dying so— that’s something i couldn’t figure out how to tag.
> 
> thanks to kay for the quality assurance work. chapter title comes from magnus' incredible talk to carey before her marriage to killian. keep hands and feet and tentacles inside the ride at all times. and it's good to see everyone again-- i love writing for this fandom.

**1.**

Kravitz slips away at the end of the battle. He's standing in a lobby for a place that looks like an opera house with a huge open ceiling, candelabra dangling like chimes from up above, and decorated with a high glass elevator behind which two escalators criss-cross, stopping on other floors that overlook the lobby with balconies. Potted plants are everywhere. Fresh water droplets glint on their vivid green leaves. There's a slightly raised stage in the centre of the lobby, up from the London Bar and perpendicular to the Bag Check, and while it's also empty, there's soft upbeat jazz music that seems to emanate from it. Everything is sleek and classy, made of either elegant and old wood, or warm gold metal.

A smooth disembodied female voice announces, "Tonight's performance begins in ten minutes. If any patrons have not yet taken their seats, they should do so now."

Next to Kravitz is a man. He's wearing insomnia and a nice suit.

"Hey John," Kravitz says warmly, "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm going to need you to fill out these papers for me before you head on into the show." He gestures to the London bar, and John dazedly follows Kravitz over to it. He looks old. He looks like an old person in a young body. Kravitz sets out the papers, goes around to the other side of the bar, and pours John a glass of champagne.

"Th-- Thanks."

"No problem. This here, your name, age, gender, date of birth-- Can you confirm for me that it’s all correct?"

They go through it all together carefully. As many recently deceased souls tend to be, John is distracted and has trouble remembering details about his life. Eventually they reach the final question, just as John takes the last sip of his champagne.

"Ok. We're almost done. Are you religious? Do you follow a specific Deity?"

John's hand goes tight around the stem of his glass. His eyebrows crease. The disembodied voice announces the performance starts in ten minutes, for the third time since they've been in the lobby, and it startles John badly.

"I-- I don't think--" He scrubs at his face with a hand, drops the glass to the counter. "I can't--" There's a pained look on his face. And then he sets his jaw and shakes his head, as if to clear it. "My friend. My friend followed-- Put Pan down."

Kravitz writes it carefully in the box.

John turns to the lobby and notices a door cut into the wall, the hallway past it lit with the signature blink of theatre lights. The smooth jazz stops playing from the stage and is replaced with the buzz of instruments being tuned, the sound of it distorted, almost like it's leaking from down the hall and then echoing throughout the lobby. John turns back as if waiting for permission.

"Go on," Kravitz says, "We'll talk again soon. After the show."

John wobbles down the hall and the door closes after him. The scene fades as Kravitz heads back to his family, and then he's back in the gory blood-slicked mud and watching Magnus hoist Angus onto his shoulders. Merle is standing to the side of them, unaware he's being watched, staring at his hands and with two drops of tears welling in his eyes. Not as if he's happy, or as if he's sad, but like he's recalling something. A feeling. A friend.  
  


**2.**

After the procedure they go to a nice restaurant.

Wine, lamps, the  _ clack _ of Taako's heels on the immaculate tile-- from the lofty heights of fabric-covered roof comes the kind of warm mood lighting that turns Taako into a painting. Kravitz booked their table three months in advance, and when the hostess warmly invites them to follow her, a sweeping look taking in the crisp folds of Kravitz' suit and deeming him important, Taako's aura of smugness is delightful. The two of them must be a sight if the expressions from other patrons are anything to judge by.

Taako glides into his seat and clicks his hands down across their table for Kravitz to hold. His hair is coiled just off the nape of his neck, and it's adorned with little gold chains that match the colour of his bangles and the paint on his nails. The rich maroon of his dress matches Kravitz' tie to the exact pantone. In all the places that Kravitz is handsome, Taako is beautiful.

Before they'd left the house for the operation, they'd admired how they looked in the full-body mirror installed in their second walk-in closet. Kravitz knew they matched: aesthetically, of course, but more than that, there was a sense of rightness in how they looked together. The gleam of Taako's pointy white teeth was reflected in the angular carve of Kravitz' collarbone and the casual press of Kravitz' hand against Taako's hip seemed overwhelmingly significant. For a second, Kravitz was carried away in the cosmic correctness of Taako being here, with him, in the house that they owned together, and then Taako was saying, "let's fuckin' bounce," and so they fuckin' bounced.

Which leads them now to a ridiculously expensive table in the best restaurant not only in the city but also the country. Kravitz takes Taako's hands in his own and rubs gently along the knuckles, drawing a smirk from Taako that backtracks into an incredulous dimpling grin.

"You're so extra," Taako needles, "none of this was necessary. Not  _ remotely. _ "

"I know," replies Kravitz, "which is why we're here."

A pale flush insinuates itself onto Taako's face, and is quashed almost instantly as the headwaiter crisply approaches their table. He takes their orders and winks conspiratorially at Taako as Kravitz orders them both the most expensive steak on the menu and the house wine. The two of them are still holding hands over the table. Taako changes their positions so his hands are cupping Kravitz' bigger ones, and he runs his fingers over Kravitz' rings, as if grounding himself.

Left index, silver band with ancient runes; right index, gold band with inset red beryl skull. Left ring finger, his reaper masonic ring made of a strange colour-changing stone. Right middle, the intricate gimmel ring Taako got him two days ago.

They don't talk. While they enjoy each other's company, there's tenseness in the air so palpable and rumbling that Kravitz can almost smell the ozone. Music plays at a low level and wraps itself gently around Kravitz ribcage.

(Do you have?/Something to say/'Cause the feelings in my mind/Cannot escape...)

After a while the steak arrives. Taako, who hasn't touched his wine, bites down hard on his lip. Kravitz takes his hand back and nods encouragingly, starting to cut into his own dinner. They both get a mouthful speared on forks, and make eye contact. There's a guarded hope in the back of Taako's iris, nearly overshadowed by pre-emptive disappointment.

"On three." Taako whispers, and then too nervous to wait--  "Three."

In tandem they bite, chew, swallow.

Kravitz' own meal is absolutely tasteless in his mouth and his eyes are fixed on his partner. Taako's snapped his eyes shut and his grip on the fork is so tight that there's a very real danger of snapping the utensil in half.

"Did it not work?" Kravitz asks, panicked, "You look-- Taako you look pretty upset--"

"It's  _ overcooked _ ." Taako spits. He drops the fork with a clatter to the table, where it hits his plate at an odd angle and ricochets off the edge. "Some-- some culinary moron  _ fucked it up _ ." With a deft hand, he pulls Kravitz' own fork out of his grip, slices another bite and holds it up to eye level inspection. "Look at this. Look at this  _ shit _ . The cook must've been stabbing it the entire goddamn time it was cooking; the poor baby looks like Lup blasted it for forty straight minutes. There's no juice left in it at all. Jesus  _ Christ _ ."

He hurls the fork to the ground with the first one and stands up dramatically with an arm swinging wide to achieve a cape-like billow. His heels crack menacingly and his dark scowl summons their waiter from the nearby table where he'd been lurking unobtrusively.

"S--sir?" He croaks, "Is everything... to your liking..." He wilts under the overwhelming evidence that everything is not, in fact, to their liking, and whispers, "C'mon man, don't make a scene, I just work here--"

"Is this a  _ joke _ ?" Kravitz demands, in his reaper voice, and rises to back Taako. He sends the waiter his most intimidating glare, and if the man was upset before, he looks nearly hysterical now. "This establishment is supposed to be of the highest quality, but if nobody can manage a simple steak then you best believe we're taking our money elsewhere."

The entire restaurant is watching them at this point. Patrons with their mouths open and forks half-lifted avidly observe, while staff shrinks behind furniture and serving plates like shields.

"Speaking of money," Taako rages, and their waiter’s eyes widen with dawning realization and terror for what's coming, "you better  _ know _ that I want a  _ refund _ ."

Ten chaotic minutes follow. To get the refund (not offered and even-if-it-was-Mr-Kravitz-Sir,  _ definitely  _ not offered to reservations), they need to argue their way past the waiter, to the cashier, to the restaurant manager. By the time they reach this checkpoint Taako's just about run out of indignant outrage, so Kravitz has to step in with the understated stern disappointment.

Catastrophe left behind them, they exit arm-in-arm and Kravitz teleports them to Fantasy McDonalds. Taako orders two hamburgers and they eat them there in the store, dressed to the nines with the other diners and the minimum-wage workers watching them in confusion and amazement.

"That was fun," Kravitz says, "and thanks for bailing me out. I saw the price on the  _ water _ and was like, fuck all this? But I still wanted you to have a nice night?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. I saw the dawning horror in your eyes. It was like an apocalyptic sunrise."

They eat in silence.

"But anyway," continues Kravitz, "did it work?"

Taako smiles. "Oh yeah. I'm never eating Gogurt again."  
  


 

**3.**

On the TV there is a sharp man in a pantsuit gesturing to a poster of a tiefling with short curled horns, looking adoringly at someone out of shot. The studio audience is jeering while the host smiles plainly. Text scrolls at the bottom: CONTINUING AFTERMATH OF DAY OF STORY AND SONG; CHARGES BROUGHT AGAINST SA--

There’s a click, and the TV turns black. In it’s glossy screen, Kravitz can see his own pained face. Hands awkwardly full of cat squirming to get away, and heart full of pain for his boyfriend. Taako levers himself up on his elbow and twists until his chin is resting on the back of the couch.

“Here Kitty-Kitty!” He cooes, “Come to Papa!”

Kitty-Kitty makes her escape and jumps onto Taako’s face, scratching Kravitz’ arm as she goes and in seeming defiance of the laws of gravity. Taako and cat fall back onto the flat of the couch, laughing and mewing respectively, so neither of them see Kravitz eye twitch. Just the once. But sharply; angrily.  
  


 

**4.**

His desk has a card on it. Kravitz immediately summons his scythe and gets his free hand on the Stone of Far-Speech he uses for work. The most unsettling thing is how out of place it looks in this setting. Kravitz has his own private office at the end of a long bleak corridor, lit by candlelight and with velvet tapestry hanging on the wall. Of course there are windows, but they’re stained glass made up with designs of black roses, women crying blood, and tombstones with hands clawing up out of them. When one steps down on the ‘carpet,’ it crunches a little bit. The office is just as gothic inside, as is appropriate and conforming to the dress code. Kravitz makes sure that the bookcases lining the walls have the regulation amount of cobwebs and dust, that his huge mahogany desk is just tall enough that the person sitting at the visitation end of it has to crane their neck up just a  _ little bit _ (an effect hard to achieve when everyone is a different height, but Kravitz can do magic and cares a lot about this), and that there will always be just a little bit of wind to touch menacingly on the back of people’s necks.

The birthday card is neon pink and plays music when Kravitz jabs at it with the end of the scythe. 

“HAPPYBIRTHDAYTOYOUHAPPYBIRTHDAYTOYOUHAPPYBIRTHDAYHAPPYBIRTHDAYHAPPYBIRTHDAYTOY--” There is no space between words and it sounds like someone has manually edited out the silences, and added effects to make the ‘song’ sound like an ancient chant coming from deep underground. The awful racket cuts off suddenly as Kravitz casts Silence. He gingerly approaches, and is able to make out more details. The cardstock is cheap. On the front, in gaudy curly font, is: CONGRATULATIONS TO MY NUMERO UNO! YOU’RE TURNING 10! Manually scrawled after the ten, in looping beautiful calligraphy, are seven more zeroes and a question mark in parenthesis.

Kravitz disappears his scythe and flips open the card. It reads: MY HANDSOME SON! MY BEAUTIFUL BOY! YOU’RE GETTING SO BIG! Below this, in the same calligraphy as the front, is written: A bigger pain in my ass. Ha-Ha-Ha. I love you. 

There’s a beep from the Stone of Far-Speech still in his hand. Kravitz picks up and smiles dryly as pleased clacking comes from his rock, as if someone with a beak is snickering.

“Thanks Boss. Sort of. This number is absolutely nowhere near accurate, and of course you’ve gotten the date completely wrong, but this is sweet.” More clacking. Then it gentles into a croon, and Kravitz’ mouth softens into a pleased smile that he can’t help but feel embarrassed about even though he’s alone. There’s a rustling and a confused sound, before another person takes the stone.

“Uh,” Barry sounds apologetic, “The Raven Queen wants me to tell you to ‘Shut up you’re like twelve.’ Her words. Not mine. I am-- so sorry--”

Knowing that he’ll have to be extra-loud so Boss hears it even though no longer holding the stone, Kravitz yells down the line, “I’M ELEVEN SO SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

  
  


**5.**

Battlewagon racing had only flourished in its new state of legality. Hurley and Sloane were the obvious heroes of the track, but there were plenty of other challengers that kept them on their toes from race to race. One of these challengers was a gnome who was addicted to adrenaline and promised Taako his firstborn child as repayment for introducing him to the sport.

"It's so wild you want Davenport killed," says Magnus. "That you can't wait for him to go up in a fiery crash so you can eat gnome barbecue."

"Gnomeque." Taako sniffs, "Is a delicacy that few, a very special few, ever get to experience."

"Quey-gnome."

"Chewey gnome!"

"Gnaw-en-port?"

"Oh fuck. That's good."

Kravitz snorts. "None of them are good and you're both awful."

They're jostling for position in front of the other groundlings right by the track, craning their necks for a good view of the startling line. They can see Hurley and Sloane, perched magnificently atop a steel beast that looks like it eats small children and Halflings, but Davenport and his partner aren't visible through the crush of machine and smoke and life.

"I take responsibility for Davenport." Taako smirks, "But you? That's what I'm havin' trouble with, that's what I can't believe. Jeffandrew, thank and praise him for our lives and souls, is going to absolutely crucify you in Hell."

"Nah, I'm good. He can take care of himself."

"Maybe, if he figured out how to  _ do his job correctly _ ! But anyway. All I'm saying is that I'll put 10gp on one of them getting hurt bad enough for there to be blood."

"Hmm. I'll take that, alright." Magnus and Taako fist bump and flow from there into their terrifying collection of slaps, twirls, hand gymnastics, until it ends in a low five that gets a wolf-whistle from a nearby person who's also waiting for the races to start.

Kravitz readjusts Mookie carefully on his shoulders. "Can you see? You, and Mavis? That one on the end is the one we're looking at." He points to the battlewagon in question and Mookie squints seriously at it, his nose screwing up in concentration in a move stolen right from his father.

Eventually the crowd's noises swell up into shrieking and yelling, something that Magnus gets enthusiastic about participating in, and by the time the race is scheduled to start, even the announcer looks breathless, like she's been screaming too.

"RACERS!" She howls, and the big rigs seem to be staring down the track with their headlights-- seizing it up, the drivers leering at each other, hands tight on their wheels, and Mookie's grip is fierce on two of Kravitz' dreadlocks, "START! YOUR! ENGINES!"

They do, and the ensuing dust clouds would obscure all vision, if Kravitz hadn't thought ahead and got Taako to transmute goggles for everybody.

"ON MY MARK!" The announcer continues, and Kravitz feels the spike in Mookie's heartbeat, in Mavis' blood temperature, "GET SET!"

A single, final, dreadful, exhilarating, moment of anticipation.

"GO!"

Davenport and Merle gun it and blast across the startling line with all the other battlewagons. Everyone's screaming, jumping up and down; Kravitz can barely make out Taako's wolf whistles, and beside him Mavis is bloodthirsty yelling, "GET 'EM, DAD! CRUSH THEIR SOULS!"  
  


 

**6.**

Magnus grins brightly at Merle and crushes Taako in a hug as they step over the doorway. His house is wooden and small, roughshod but loved. The roof has grass planted on it and the path walking up is gravel, with a few chickens pecking across it. A duck is carved into the handle of the doorknob and a small quack startles Kravitz as he pokes at it curiously.

“That was my contribution.” Taako loftily informs him, “Yes, whatever, Magnus ‘built this from the ground up’ out of ‘literally nothing’ except from ‘some fucking trees just laying around’ but  _ I _ made the door quack. So, think on that one for awhile.”

Magnus lets Taako go and turns his toothy smile onto the handle. “Yeah you did. And it’s, as the kids are saying, dope as all hell.”

From inside the house, Angus calls, “NONE OF THE KIDS ARE SAYING THAT!”

Magnus rolls his eyes as Merle starts to shout some faux mean things back, and the four of them step inside. Kravitz’ eyes take in the house curiously, and even though he’s seen it all the way through various stages of construction, it takes him aback anew. It’s so curious and warm. Lived in, even though it hasn’t been yet.

The house that Taako bought for himself and Kravitz is full of long staircases and dramatic foyers. There are high ceilings and yawning alcoves; a huge kitchen; seven bathrooms, six of which are unusable because of What Lup Did, and the large swooping lawn is planted with both gorgeous flowers and tall, sturdy, trees. It’s full of Kravitz’ favourite colours and Taako’s beautiful objects. Expensive everything, only loosely matching everything else. In the library are entrances to four separate hidden rooms. The bedroom has a balcony. If anybody else had furnished it the house would undoubtedly feel ridiculously big and empty with just the two of them and the cats, but Taako’s personality bubbled out into every aspect of the place until Kravitz actually started to feel outnumbered whenever he was in an empty room. It’s a house that says I-Fucking-Live-Here. It’s a house that says I-Fucking-Earned-The-Right-To-Live-Here

Magnus’ cottage feels cramped with the small gathering inside it. People are forced to sit with their knees knocking together and their shoulders brushing. Angus sits at a homemade table, underneath a homemade roof, smiling through the homemade doorway at his older brother who is still actually holding a hammer. On the wall behind him is a painted portrait of a two human-ish blops, one male and one female, both with huge smiles and calloused hands.

It’s an I-Built-This house. An I-Spent-A-Long-Time-Building-Both-This-House-And-My-Life house. 

Kravitz tucks his hand into Taako’s. He smiles softly at him. He feels heavy, somewhere in his chest, but light, too.

 

**7.**

The letter opener is lying on the ground in the study. It's dark, Taako's only turned on a single light, and so it's hard to see anything. Kravitz can make him out, swaddled in one of Kravitz' reaper cloaks, sitting in the huge swivel chair with his knees tucked up into his chest and his hat sitting on a stack of mail. The office is a cluttered and disorganized mess of papers, books of bounties that need to be updated, and boxes of files for Taako's Amazing School Of Magic that need signatures.

Kravitz knocks on the door lightly and steps in. Taako startles a little bit and twitches like he's going to turn but then decides not to.

"Is this a talking time?" Kravitz asks, "Or a go away time?"

Taako's arm emerges from the bundle of fabric and gestures vaguely. He's wearing one of Lup's silk shirts and his nails are painted pink, badly, which means that Magnus did them. He makes a muffled and heavy, wet, sound. Something like a sob, or maybe a laugh. In his hand is a letter: heavy, serious looking, long, on parchment with rich dark ink and flicks of wax at the top that look like excess drips from the seal on the envelope.

Kravitz takes it and skims through, and then he gasps upon reaching the bottom. "This is good news. Right, Taako? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," whispers Taako. "This letter is conclusive proof that nothing is wrong."

"Well I don't know about that. But in better news, they've arrested him." Kravitz says, hoping it'll cheer Taako up somewhat, "So he'll go to jail, minimum." Then he remembers who Taako  _ is _ and he's already regretting his words, but it's too late--

"If they don't slap 'im with the death penalty." Taako says, flatly, still lumpily arranged on the chair and staring down at the envelope in his lap like he's on Saturn and realizing this slip of paper didn't guarantee a return trip, "I'll blink down there and do it myself."

  
  


**8.**

Candlelight flickers against the bathroom walls. It's dark, so no distractions are visible through high-up diamond window, and they've turned off all the lights in their adjoining bedroom. The space is cozy. It's not a tiny bathroom, but it's intimate, with warm cream walls and the elegant curving furniture.  The shower is tucked into the corner and the candlelight catches in the clear sides and dazzles warmly back out into the room, dappling on the walls. On the shelves are careful arrangements of all manners of cream, balm, soap, and personal care product. What Kravitz likes most about the bathroom is the bathtub-- big enough for both of them. Jets on the side. The sloped back and carved armrest to lie comfortably against; the smooth sides, just the right size for two pairs of legs, overlapping.

Tonight started with Kravitz kissing Taako softy behind his left ear, then scraping his teeth over the same spot, and then Taako traced Kravitz' back with his long manicured nails; Kravitz bit Taako's collarbone, picked Taako up with two hands on his waist, spun them into the wall so Taako arched sultrily into Kravitz' chest--

Right now they're in the bathtub, enjoying afterglow and lazily kissing. They're lying sideways to face each other, but Taako is still partially on Kravitz, his arm curved around Kravitz' neck and the other resting across his chest. Their legs are twined together. Taako's hair is floating gently in the warm water and just barely brushing Kravitz' collarbone.

"I," starts Taako, and then stops. He moves his foot a little bit and a little wave briefly stirs the tub. "I'm going to run out of love eventually. I'm not like other people. I've only got so much."

"Love for me? Or the capacity to start loving new people?"

"Ugh. God. I've already hit my limit for new people. The other thing, obviously." In direct contrast to his words, he kisses Kravitz sweetly on the upper lip. "It's just. I get bored. Or I get tired. Or you change, or I change. Or you don't change when I want you to change."

Kravitz thinks about this. He runs a hand down Taako's ribs and gentles his touch the lower down he gets.

"That's fine. It just means that you're scrupulous."

Taako says, "What?"

"You know. Selective. But I don't think you'll run out. If you  _ decide _ to leave me, that's a different thing. And it would break my heart, obviously, but it's your choice. Not your nature."

Taako grinds into Kravitz' hip and giggles lightly. "You've got it all figured out? Big guy? But what if you get tired of me, huh?"

The water undulates, sloshing up and down with Taako's rhythm, and Kravitz gasps a little as he starts going warm at the edges, the weight of Taako and the movement of their hands and the heat of the tub all contributing, and Kravitz touches Taako's chin, his long neck, the creases of his bright clear eyes, and gets out, "There's no way I-- I could get tired of you, I could s-stop loving you-- there's, there's so much about you that I adore-- your talents, your personality, your-- your  _ bravery _ \--"

Candles balanced nearby flick and the flames curl. Tiny spotlights in the dark. The glass of the shower, reflections, enhancing everything; Kravitz can see himself and Taako in it, and he likes that, seeing them, how open they both look, how raw, and he hears Taako say, "If I run out of love for you, I'll replace it with something else-- something stronger,  _ better _ \--"

  
  


**9.**

And then Taako asks, "What's my nature? You were saying that it  _ isn’t _ my nature, but what is?"

Taako flicks his foot over one of the wet spots on the bathroom floor like a skipping stone, splashing Kravitz on his new dry socks. He's only got a towel wrapped around his waist for modesty, whereas Kravitz is mostly dressed.

"Oh, God." Kravitz grins. "Menace. You're like your own phenomena. I won't hit you with any nature metaphors, but you're like this whole. Self contained." Taako offers  _ marvel? _ At exactly at the same time as Kravitz says, "Danger."

Taako redistributes his weight and pulls his mouth all the way over to one side. “Dude."

"It's-- I don't mean it like you're a  _ wreck _ \--"

"Aww, great, my man out here saying the sweetest things--"

"More like. More. I'm saying that you're--"

"Dangerous?"

Kravitz says, "Yeah."

And Taako says, "You like that about me?"

"Obviously."

Taako looks startled. He tilts his head at Kravitz considering, the offense held in his body releasing with the unclenching of his hands. He stretches his arms out. The tiny bathroom, water on the floor, candles blown out but still smoking, the soft flickflick of the overhead light. Kravitz, dressed. Taako, dropping the towel. Smiling. Happily, but mostly something else.

"Dangerous. Huh. Not what I expected."

Kravitz hands Taako his sleep shirt and smiles back, happily but mostly something else, adding, "You're a lot of things in addition to that, of course. There are also a lot of modifying words I could've used. But-- of course I like that about you. If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of an adrenaline junkie? My job isn't exactly the most normal?"

Taako pulls the sleep shirt over his head, and for a moment he's absolutely unguarded, vulnerable-- arms tucked out of the way, tangled in the shirt, his neck, undefended, the soft lines of his body falling into place with each other--

"What're you thinkin' about now? Krav?"

"If I killed you," Kravitz starts, and then stops. He studies his boyfriend again, playing scenarios through his mind and running himself through arguments that they'd end up having (and even if he did manage to get his hands on Taako's soul, there's no guarantee that Taako would care enough about Kravitz having it that he'd agree--).

Enclosed space. Words drifting between the two of them, lifted on the lingering steam from the bath. Loose hair tumbling down backs. Damp. Quiet. Something about the quality of light; as if they're in a woodland forest in midday, instead of their en-suite bathroom.

"You say shit like that." Taako says, "And I think that you're the only person I could've ever ended up being happy with."

  
  


**10.**

"I'm still not used to your sincere voice." Kravitz says.

Taako laughs. "My what? Babe?" And then Angus runs up, curly hair light in the overhead sun, feet skidding through the gravel and brace-teeth open in a huge delighted smile, graduation cap under his arm, and Taako says, "KID! Kid, you did so fuckin' good!"

They're sitting in plastic chairs that stick to the backs of their thighs, and the stage that Angus McDonald, head of his class, recently gave his speech from, is decked with banners and balloons that rustle in the light wind. Although they're given privacy, Kravitz notices that they're being watched. Surreptitious glances from people wearing ".... FROM TV?!" shirts, double-takes from other people in Angus' class-- snatches of conversation; Kravitz hears someone saying, "--And he wasn't  _ great _ at soccer but he was a pretty good goalie; kicked ass in debate club--"

Magnus comes sprinting down the row of chairs and Angus' entire face lights up even more then it was already. Taako's already taking a couple steps back to give them space, and sure enough, as soon as Magnus gets close enough, Angus hurls himself into Magnus' arms to get spun around in a dangerous 360 degree whirlwind of kicking feet and Magnus Muscle.

"CONGRATULATIONS ANGO!" Magnus yells, finally putting Angus down, and although it's hard to see his mouth through his beard it's obvious he's beaming. "You did it! We all knew you could!"

"Yeah, if you were expecting us to be surprised by your brilliance, you've deeply underestimated our observational skills," Merle drawls, emerging out from behind Magnus, where he entirely hidden by his bulk and too short to get whacked by the spinning Angus, "All the awards you won? We're not impressed. We're let down, really, that they didn't invent  _ new _ awards to give to you."

Kravitz meets Angus' eyes and smiles at him as kindly as he can, flashing a thumbs up, and then looking around for the other B.O.B. members that all turned up for the event. Lucretia should be here somewhere. He could hear her crying all through the ceremony.

Behind him, Taako takes Angus by the arm and says softly, "I'm proud of you. I'm hella proud of you, kiddo, I really  _ really _ am."

  
  


**11.**

When the train bumps sideways as it spins around a corner, Taako’s sleeping body rocks gently into Kravitz’ side. He looks good, all lanky and graceful, against the plush seating of the private carriage. Kravitz doesn’t fully understand what they’re doing in Rockport when they get there, besides knowing vaguely that Taako needs to clarify some things in the merchandising contract with his t-shirt contractors, and also that he’s upset with Tom Bodett that the Davenport shirts have ‘OK BUT WHO WILL FUCKING BUY THESE ANYWAY HAHA DONT PUT THAT’ across the back, due to what Kravitz can only assume is the biggest communications disaster of all time.

_ The Rockport Unlimited _ has been safe and carefully driven so far, but they take the corner fast. As the steam from the boiler whips past the windows, Kravitz imagines what would happen if the train tipped off the track, crashed down the chasm they’re driving past, and slammed into the trees. Most everyone would be killed, of course. Messily. Which is just the worst-- when it takes awhile to die, when it hurts the whole time. That’s not what he wants for Taako. 

What does he want for Taako? After death, what would happen to him? Kravitz frowns at the carpeting and at his own clasped hands, then out the window and back in his boyfriend’s direction. Then he smiles. Of course. He nudges Taako in the shoulder lightly, then harder when it has no effect.

Eventually Taako mumbles softly and blinks. His eyes focus gradually. They’re luminous and piercing, even half asleep like this, in the pale sunlight peeking past the clouds.

“Hey, babe,” Kravitz whispers, “Taako?” Taako rustles and then wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands, his head tilting in Kravitz direction to indicate he’s listening as his mouth splits in a huge yawn.

“Kraaa--AAhH--v?”

“Hey. It’s me. Uhm, obviously. I just had an idea.”

“Hmm?”

“You should come to work with me sometime! I've just realized that you’ve never met anyone from the office before and that’s, uh, kind of an embarrassing social slip for me. I mean, I’ve met all  _ your _ friends and I don’t think I’ve even mentioned my own before? Oops. But anyway, I was thinking, and when you’re a reaper it would be a huge hand up for you to be familiar with the group already. First starting out you’re forced into a lot of group assignments and, they don’t tell you this, but you’re judged on how compatible you can be with others. And? Fuck-- there isn’t a good way to say this, but-- I guess, if you knew some folks  _ beforehand _ taking the  _ tests _ , it might be easier for you to. Pretend to like them. Wow, I should’ve thought that through before saying it out loud.”

Taako sits up and back to the window, distancing himself from Kravitz. His ears are flat against his head and he’s frowning in a long thin line. He opens his mouth and closes it.

“What are you saying?” He sounds-- not angry. But confused. And the startings of annoyed.

“Only that you should come to work with me sometimes. Meet the boss before she’s your boss. I think you two would really get on, actually.”

“No. I-- I’m not going to be a fucking reaper. What even was that thought?” Confusion is gone from Taako’s voice but the annoyance is twice as strong. “How long have you been assuming that? What, was having Lup and Barry a part of your stupid little murder trio not enough?”

The train plunges into a tunnel. The sound quality changes and Taako’s voice takes on a tinny, far away, quality. Kravitz doubletakes.

“It just occurred to me now, but I guess I’d assumed for a while--” Everything is shadow now. Kravitz can’t see Taako, can’t see his posture or his face, but imagines the hard set of his jaw and tense angles his feet go to when he’s stressed. Kravitz’ mouth is dry. He tries to say something, to make himself more clear. “Murder trio? Do you think that?”

Then they’re out of the tunnel and it’s instantly worse. Kravitz’ imagined Taako is exactly like the real one, down to the clench of his teeth and condescending avoidance of eye contact. Maybe this would’ve been easier, after all, in the dark.

“I’m not reaping,” Taako says, and then, “I thought you knew. I can’t fucking abide that Lup is doing it. We’ve been fighting for weeks.”

Lup and Barry were over two nights ago and Kravitz had a fantastic time. Fast moving conversation, cheerful updates, jokes. Taako had laughed. His real laugh. More smoke streams past outside. Something that looks soft and puffy, but is cold and intangible. A visual assumption. You can’t hold it in your hands. 

Kravitz sinks, literally, into the seat. Under his breath, Taako mutters, “I fucking  _ hate _ it.”

  
  


**12.**

After it occurs to Kravitz that he should be sharing his work friends with Taako, he cringes away from the idea. He mulls on it and hates it fiercely for three straight months until it follows him into the depths of insomnia. Then he sets the hate aside, rolls over in bed, and thinks about it.

Kravitz could introduce his boyfriend to his colleagues. There’s Vanka down the hall, and the lads he goes for drinks with sometimes. Ritz, the guy who taught him about changing your voice for different occasions and how to stop birds from startling when you move quickly. The group of them could go to Kravitz’ usual haunts together. He could take Taako to the tavern he drank in when he was still low level, collecting souls from the elderly. Maybe he should be working harder to reconcile these aspects of himself. To share his life with Taako like Taako’s shared his life with Kravitz. Not easily and not completely and very reluctantly but he  _ has _ done a lot. It would be nice to think that Taako’s friends are Kravitz’ too.

Maybe the problem is that Kravitz just doesn’t like his colleagues that much. It would be nice to introduce Taako to the Raven Queen though-- to tell her, “This is the reason I’ve been leaving the office and bought a house and refuse to take missions that leave me out of contact for years on end like I did before and he’s clever and mean and talks too much and will think that the people who work here are either pathetic wastes of time or complete psychopaths, and if he sees me in a work environment then he’ll finally realize that I murder people for a living and then he’ll leave me.”

He realizes he’s gone immaterial and is floating somewhere in the foundations of the house. He laughs to himself. He doesn’t move.

 

 

**13.**

Boss watches Kravitz as he paces slowly around the desk. The drapery across his office windows are pulled open to reveal the outside, but since the outside is a completely void Otherspace, there is still very little light. Kravitz has always struggled with touch and feeling. Around Taako and the living, he does his best to imitate it, but he doesn’t usually bother at work. 

Lup and Barry are sitting in the small seats and looking mullish and nervous, respectively. Lup’s eyebrows make a hard flat line across her face. Barry’s hands crawl across his thighs and meet in a clammy twist again. Dust hangs heavily in the air and the Raven Queen scrapes her talon down the floor in a way that means she’s trying very hard not to sneeze.

“I just thought--” Barry starts, breaking suddenly. Lup scowls at him and he ignores her, twisting anxiously to look at the Raven Queen where she’s lurking in a shadowy corner. He can’t meet Kravitz’ eyes. Hasn’t all evening. “--When I got the parameters for the job it just said ‘retrieval’ so when I did retrieve her, it didn’t seem like it would be a big deal to just let her-- let her look at--”

Kravitz turns sharply to him and Barry stops talking instantly.

“No, go on,” Kravitz encourages, “What did you let her look at again?”

A beat. Barry look at the floor, then Kravitz, and continues, “It seemed fine to let her look at her  _ family _ one last time before reaping her fucking soul and killing her forever! And it was fine! Nothing happened! I don’t understand how I’m in trouble for following procedure, being humane, and giving everyone involved some closure!”

When nothing happens after this bold declaration, Barry returns to looking nervous. Kravitz stops walking and drops into his chair. He steeples his hands together on the desk and tries to keep the derision from his voice when he speaks, but perhaps doesn’t succeed entirely, judging by the white fear on Barry’s face.

“Listen, Mr. Bluejeans. It’s important for us to be direct with each other so I’ll be blunt. You’re making quite a few mistakes right now. The mistake of allowing a last visit, the mistake of thinking of me as your friend right now, the mistake of calling in Ms. Bluejeans for ‘backup’ instead of someone who actually has training in these areas, and the mistake of not admitting you’ve made a mistake.” Kravitz leans forward. “We know each other and get along well out of work, but you can _ not _ keep presuming that being my brother-in-law will let you get away with egregious breaches of protocol, trust, and convention.

“When you grant last visits to family, you’re saying that your personal feelings of guilt are more important to you than the safety of the entire material plane. You’re arrogantly declaring that you can absolutely handle a rogue spirit on a rampage all by yourself, and that you know better than  _ millenia _ of professionals before you. While I’m glad you’re comfortable in this workplace, I’m furious that--” He cuts himself off and rubs the bridge of his nose.

Barry whispers, “I didn’t--”

“--You’ve worked here for how long, now?” Kravitz asks, “Five years? Do you have any idea how young you still are?”

Lup scoffs, then looks immediately ashamed as Boss clacks her beak menacingly. “We’re at about the same level of maturity, Krav. Don’t condescend down to us. Yes we made a mistake, and a pretty big one if the burning rage in your eyes can be trusted, but at least do us the courtesy of clearly explaining what the problem is and how we can avoid it in the future.”

Kravitz’ face does something to make Barry say ‘meep,’ and shrink backwards.

“Fair.” Kravitz says, finally. “Uncontained spirits can kill way easier if they’ve been brought somewhere by a reaper, such as being taken on a last visit, because the material plane views this interaction as ‘permission’ for the spirit to be there. It’s extremely dangerous and absolutely against the rules.”

Lup’s eyes are wide and guileless. “See, Barry? It all makes sense. This was your first brush with the dangerous and your first little  _ dance _ with the  _ rules _ .”

Kravitz dismisses them so he doesn’t lose his mind and yell. They skulk out into the hall, exchanging meaningful looks with each other that communicate just how stupid they think Kravitz is. Once the door closes behind them, the Raven Queen caws sympathetically in his direction. She moves out of the shady corner and into the visitor’s chair, which transforms instantly into a glorious gothic throne. Her wings rustle as she folds them over the armrests and tilts her beady eyes to force him into eye contact.

Once she has it, they stare at each other. Kravitz loses track of time. Being around Boss is like being around no other being in the cosmos: he’s never talked about it to anyone but he’s sure that everyone feels as tiny and as big, as important and meaningless, as seen and as invisible, as he does when she’s watching him. Something electric passes between them. Kravitz feels revitalized and relieved, as if he’s told her everything on his mind and she’s instinctively answered in the way exactly that he needed.

The Raven Queen coughs quietly into her feathers and breaks the moment. Kravitz grins, quiet, at her. She rumbles back. Outside, Lup and Barry are walking hand-in-hand.

  
  


**14.**

"Magnus, stop-- I can't-- I can't hear you, put down the phone and-- Take a few deep breaths. In and out. In.... and out. It's-- It's okay. Do you want me to go get Taako? D-- No! No, I'm not hanging up, it's-- I'm here. Can you do more breaths for me? In... Out... Thank you Magnus. Okay. What did you say? A goldfish?"

  
  


**15.**

"They don't want me there."

"Idiot, they  _ do _ ."

"I'm the Grim Reaper!"

"They know that!"

"Is that why they want me there?"

"No! They want you there because they want me there, and they know I wouldn't go if you weren't there, which means they want you  _ so bad _ that they put your name on the invitation instead of just  _ The Taak Master And His Plus One I Guess _ ."

"Oh, so it's all about you?"

"Yeah."

"Like it always is?"

"Yeah."

"You know, if we ever have our wedding, would be hilarious if I used my glamour to look just like you?"

"Holy shit."

"Ok, yeah, too far, nobody would get it--"

"No,  _ holy shit _ , if we ever get married, that's the plan-- That's 100%,  _ the fucking plan _ , I can't believe you have evil thoughts like this all the time and only sometimes condescend to share them with me--"

"Crap!"

"Oh. So now I'm the one pushing too far, huh?"

"No! No, you're right, I'm totally evil, but the time! They don't even want me there and we'll disgrace ourselves by showing up late--"

"You can  _ teleport _ . I can  _ teleport _ . We can both _ teleport _ ."

"Oh. Right."

"But moving onto more important things, you can look like me? Exactly? We're going to put a pin in this and revisit later, because I have several applications and ideas that I really think will enhance--"

  
  


**16.**

“Shit, babe. Does my ass really look like that from the back?  _ Shit _ . No, roll over! Roll over! It’s good. It’s-- I’m into this, definitely.”

  
  


**17.**

Blistering flames crackle in the dark chasm below. The black obsidian rock that makes up the scenery, craggy mountains and low scraping valleys, is interrupted by suddenly jutting gnarled trees, and the steaming whorls of lava like splatter-paint. And then there are the protruding cages of pure willpower, visible only to the mortal eye as absolutely white negative space. In the middle of the cages, the souls boil and froth, blurring so fast in their ferocity that they appear like black tornados with slanted red eyes.

"And these are the unreformed souls!" Kravitz beams, pointing to the nearest cage. "This is the bugger that Barry and Lup scooped up last week. I haven't got around to reconditioning him yet. We've got a bit of a backlog at the moment. This is Taako! Say hello everyone!"

In unison, 35 undead howling spirits chant, "GO-OD MOR-NING MISTER TAAKO!"

"Holy. Fucking shit." Taako deadpans. "If anyone, ever, says that you aren't a stone-cold badass, I will tell the tale of this day."

  
  


**18.**

“Ok, that’s enough. I’m over it. And I kinda miss your ugly mug. Change back.”

  
  


**19.**

Singing doesn't come easily to Kravitz. He doesn't like performing for other people and he doesn't like the raspy, low, quality to his voice. He thinks it sounds like he can't hit any of the notes, even if he manages to do it. A long while ago he wanted to be a conductor, and that's his favourite part of music: bringing it all together, painting with it. Not singing. But he's at home and it's late, and he's weeding the yard manually because he can't sleep, and the grass touches his feet so gently with their tiny outstretched hands.

He holds the spade in one hand. There are bulbs in the awful cupboard Taako built halfway up the stairs. They grow into some kind of flower that Merle said would only bloom at night, and Kravitz had the sudden and overwhelming desire to plant them. Something seems so sacred about this moment. His grounded, solid, feeling. His house, his garden. The moon, which he trusts. Even the birdfeeder, dangling orb-like off the side of the house, seems like a special and radiant thing.

The song is like prayer, and it's so quiet that at first it's hardly inaudible. But it gets a little louder, and a little firmer, and a little bit more musical.

(What’ll it be now, Mister Mole/whispers Sloth/in curls of smoke...)

There's a creak from the porch. Kravitz turns and sees his partner. All of the harshness washed off. Loose and happy.

"I love hearing you sing," Taako whispers, "I love  _ you _ ."

  
  


**20.**

Kravitz has just been woken up from the best nap of his existence following the worst mission of his existence, and he yawns loudly into Taako's face to signify displeasure. Taako yawns back, twice as loud, and Kravitz narrows his eyebrows and goes to one up him. As soon as he opens his mouth, Taako pops some kind of crunchy pastry jam thing into it, and Kravitz moans and makes grabby hands. Dignity is for people who aren't eating this. Taako's eyes crinkle up in the corners, which means he's pleased, and he flops down next to Kravitz on their couch. His arms wiggle around until he's adjusted comfortably, and Kravitz purrs happily into his hair.

"Mm," Taako grumbles, "Figures I've now remembered why I hauled my beautiful ass up here,  _ after _ I got comfy. I was goin' through some fanmail." He sits up and digs through one of the pockets in his cardigan until he finds a little creamy envelope, with "MR. GRIM REAPER" spelled shakily on the front of it in blue crayon.

The letter, when Kravitz sits up himself and fishes it out, is also written in blue crayon. It's double spaced, all in caps, written wobbly and ignoring the lines on the page.

It reads as such.

MY NAM IS IRENE I AM IN SECEND GRADE AND W EALL HERD THE STOREY WITH TAKO MEGNS AND MERL BUT YOUR PART SWERE MY FAEVRATE.  
I USD 2BE SCARD OFF GHOSTS BUT I AM NOT ANEYMORE BECUSE I KNO THAT YOU WILL CATCH THE GHOSTS.  
I ALSO LIKE YOUR HAIRE VERY MUCH IT LOKS LIKE MY BORTHERS HAIRE.  
THAN KYOU MR GRIM REAPER MY MOMMY ALSO SAIS THANKYOU FOR TAKENG DADDY AWAY WHEN HE WAS ASLEP BECKASE THAT DID NOT HURT HIM AND I DID NOT LIKE WHEN HE HURT.  
AR YOU ALSO THE TOTH FAIRY?

A spot hits the corner of the paper. Water. Kravitz touches it, then feels the tear track down his face.

Taako takes the letter out of Kravitz' shaking hands, looking tender and proud. "Oh, bubbleh. You always get like this."

  
  


**21.**

Davenport hesitates before saying it, but Kravitz knows it's coming. In the backlash, in the wake of Taako's delicate little smooch on Kravitz' forehead and then hip-swishing departure, his blatant lie only buoyed by his conspiratorial wink, someone like Davenport could never stay silent.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Davenport asks, "That Taako lies to you? And everyone? All the time? Like, pathologically? The IPRE Crew is pretty much used to it by now, but..."

"Only with his words." Kravitz shrugs. "It's-- I feel different about it then the rest of you seem to. If he were really trying to be deceptive then he would do a better job. If there were something he was serious about doing that he thought I wouldn't like, he wouldn't talk about it at all. To me, all this is-- It's not a lie, he's just."

Voice rich with disapproval, Davenport purses his lips. "Omitting truth?"

"You don't get it. He's just talking. He told me what he was going to  _ really _ do, didn't you see?"

"What?"

"You know, when he winked at me and then glanced at Magnus, which was the payoff to earlier when he was talking about..." Kravitz trails off because Davenport's just staring at him like he's crazy.

Taako, who is lingering just in earshot, smiles wickedly. His lips curving back. His teeth sharp. Watching Kravitz. Being honest with him. Brutally so. And Kravitz loves it, he drinks it up.

  
  


**22.**

Ren squeaks in alarm and Kravitz hears a crash of falling paper, as well as the unmistakable crash of textbooks being overturned.

Kravitz sticks his head into the open doorway and finds Ren scooping registration books and  _ "Transmutation For Evocationists," _ off the ground and piling them into her arms. Taako meets Kravitz' eyes. He looks resigned. His voice is flat and quiet.

"I can't run a school. All I'm good at is breaking things. Taking things away."

  
  


**23.**

The Material Plane has much better scenery then any other, in Kravitz' opinion. His job doesn't really allow for lots of time to sightsee, but it does take him all over the world. Escaping souls try to hide in lots of different remote places. At the bottom of oceans, on the peaks of mountains, behind the sun, tucked flat under the trees. Sometimes after completing a bounty, of just before starting to look, he'll take a few moments to linger in the refinement of nature.

He doesn't like animals as much as he might if he was alive. While the cats like him okay, most creatures seem to sense him as a threat, which means if he does ever see one-- a rare thing in itself-- they tend to growl or scratch. But some animals, like fish, and for some reason butterflies, don't mind him.

It can be pleasant to sit and watch things happen. Kravitz and Taako take walks together, as well. Taako likes urban environments more, so they take turns picking locations. Sometimes they'll walk to a show, or a movie, or an attraction. Currently they're strolling across a huge grassy hill, wildflowers scattered around them for as far as the eye can see, and they're holding each other's hand and eating ice cream. Taako keeps rolling his shoulders back and tilting his head up, which meant that the sun is pleasantly warm against his skin.

Kravitz takes a lick of strawberry that was making a run down the cone towards his hand, and enjoys the view of blue sky above them. No clouds anywhere. "Hey," he remembers, "A while ago you said something like, ‘facts are oppressive?' I still don't really get what you were expressing. Did you mean things like gravity?"

Taako's wearing a large straw hat that he pins to his head as the wind briefly picks up, and then he takes Kravitz' hand again and makes the little B Flat ' _ hmm _ ,' that means he's trying to summon up the conversation. "Gravity, sure. Hard to argue with that little devil. Unless you've got, you know, crazy magic, like I just-so-happen to do. I mean more like-- let's see-- dissatisfaction?"

"Is dissatisfaction a fact for you?"

"Well. Fact as in: this is a real thing, nice try idiots but it's fuckin' indisputable, sort of way."

"What are you dissatisfied with? Is it the school? The house? Can I help with it?"

Taako laughs, quick and delighted. He turns to Kravitz and kisses him, warm, mouth open just a little bit-- a push pull-- and then his hat gets blasted off in the wind. Taako's squawk of offense is so funny that Kravitz can't resist mocking it, even as the two of them sprint after the hat.

"Shut up and go faster!" Taako yells, giggling, "C'mon, this is Lup's! Hurry! She'll kill me!"

"Maybe it's worth it!" Kravitz answers, speeding up despite. "That hat sucks! It sucks, Taako!"

His boyfriend's giggles are bright red bubbles, joyful against the sky, distinctive in the colour around them. He's jeering lewd comments about Kravitz' ass as Kravitz leaps up into the air and snags the hat by the yellow ribbon tied around the rim, and when Kravitz dramatically presents the hat back, kneeling on the grass and holding it up like a ring, Taako pulls him to his feet and presses a clandestine, precise, wonderful, kiss into the bottom of his jaw.

On the walk home, Kravitz presses the spot and smiles. There was something bothering him earlier but it’s gone now. Intangible, like sunshine.

  
  


**24.**

Sometimes Kravitz feels like he is a completely new person post-Taako. He finds himself prioritizing different things and at different times. He reads different books. It’s scary to think that another being has changed him so fundamentally and so casually, without meaning to at all-- without even realizing it. He hums Taako’s music. He says Taako’s phrases. Not in replacement of his own, but supplementary: a complimenting idea integrated into the original.

Kravitz walks differently. He moves more purposefully. He’s better with scheduling because he has places to be outside work. He speaks up more: advocates for himself and his thoughts because he’s used to trying to out-talk Taako. Kravitz holds secrets with more gravity. He puts his hair up more. He’s less stern and more focused.

The Raven Queen notices these changes too but doesn’t seem to mind them. Her approval is all consumingly important and Kravitz doesn’t know what he’d do if she  _ did _ care that he makes different jokes now and has started taking an interest in reality television. She’s been unchanged since forever. A recognizable landmark, since the start.

Sometimes Kravitz feels like he’s getting younger the older he gets.

  
  


**25.**

"Shit, Dracula." Lup giggles, "Didn't know you were such a badass! Should've put it together, I will admit that, but Barry and I 100% were not expecting to be outclassed in such a way."

"I'd say get on my level," Kravitz says, "But you'd need a jetpack and a space suit."

Barry snickers and wipes his hand across his forehead, leaving a smear of blood instead of a smear of dirt. It's an improvement, because he manages to get most of the feathers out of his hair. Lup pulls him closer with his collar, and kisses him happily on his lips. Kravitz looks away and grins to himself.

His phone rings. It's Taako. Kravitz has stopped wondering how Taako knows when things have gotten wrapped up since he caught him casting Foresight to see when Angus would visit next.

"Hey," Taako teases. His voice is biting and a little breathy. "What was it this time?"

Kravitz assesses the situation. "Good Cop, Bad Cop. Flamethrower Cop?"

  
  


**26.**

"Hey, it's me. Uh. Kravitz. Sorry we were out of contact there, but we're all okay. We're on our way home, everything's fine-- Just took awhile longer to check in then I'd anticipated. Barry says hi. Lup's making this bizarre face where her tongue is really, uh, everywhere, and her eyes-- she's telling me you'll know what it means."

  
  


**27.**

When they were first getting to know each other, their touches were never accidents and their kisses were more challenges then they were intimacies. Taako was slippery and dangerous and uninterested in commitment when all Kravitz wanted was a guarantee for all the time there was from now until the planar system lost to entropy.

It was their fourth date when Kravitz started to worry about coming on too strong.

"What do you want from me?" He’d asked.

Taako was drunk and serious and joking and demanding, and he’d replied, “What haven't you given anyone else?"

That set the tone for their relationship. Maybe Taako doesn’t remember it, but it feels branded over Kravitz’ chest. It pleases him.

  
  


**28.**

From out in the hall Kravitz hears two people talking. Low and tired is Lup, strained and higher is Barry. They’re shuffling toward Kravitz’ office in an exhausted stumbling gait, accompanied with little thumps and taps that indicate collision with each other and the wall. He can imagine them, supporting each other at the same time as they’re supported themselves. His gaze falls on the picture of Taako he keeps on his desk. It’s a candid shot of Taako eating: eyes closed, fork held up to mouth, tongue poking out in a half laugh as the nightshirt he’d stolen from Kravitz falls a little bit down his shoulder. The frame has Taako’s looping signature across the base because as soon as Taako realized Kravitz kept it at work, he autographed it.

Lup rasps, “I am so  _ Jeffandrew-damned _ tired. My bruises have bruises. Next mission, I’m going body-less.”

An amused huff. Barry. “Thank and praise him for our lives and souls. But then we’d need to track down Garfield again, and that’s, babe? Absolutely not going to happen.”

They come to a halt outside Kravitz’ office but don’t come in.

“Reckon he’s here?” Barry asks, “And what do we even say? We did our jobs properly this time, you were right, everything sucks, we’re finding this job fulfilling but the work is so paradoxical that finally understanding it broke both of our brains?”

“Maybe not. We could try something like. Uh. We understood what you were trying to tell us because that Big Disaster Situation did actually happen but somebody else made the mistake, not us, and actually we helped fix it and oh fuck we can’t say that either because it sounds like we  _ did _ do it and can’t even get our wits together enough to lie.”

Lup knocks and Kravitz calls, “C’mon in!” They do and he adds, “I heard about that whole-- awkwardness-- already. But I’m glad you understand the severity of the situation.”

In sync, they go pale and then green. Kravitz, fingers pressed together and supporting his chin, is a pleased pink.

  
  


**29.**

Lup says, “It’s been a long day.”

Kravitz says, “They all are.”

  
  


**30.**

"So, if I want to meet your parents. What do we do? Call up Barry, like, it's time for ya' boy Taak' to call in the weirdest favour ever-- although, let's all admit to ourselves, not weirder then that  _ bullshit _ you pulled on Cycle 68,  _ Barold _ . Or do I get an Ouija board and just pray to Jeffandrew, thank and praise him for our lives and souls, that I can somehow receive embarrassing baby photos through that medium? Or-- Or, holy shit-- Can you pop down to Deathville and introduce us directly? Mama Krav, Papa Krav, this is my soulmate, the love of my death, he's Taako, he's from TV--"

  
  


**31.**

They're at the Neverwinter grand re-opening, and Lord Artemis Sterling has just proudly cut a long red ribbon onstage as most of the audience politely applauds and Kravitz sniffles into his sleeve.

"Surprise." Taako rolls his eyes, "You always get like this."

  
  


**32.**

They're lying on the roof of Merle's boat as Angus sleeps in the cabin and the wind rocks  _ Merlegaritaville _ in her moorings. The moon glitters above like a luminescent blind eye. The stars look like earrings, glinting demurely in the sky. It's terrifying to think that it was almost all gone. It's wonderful that it isn't.

Taako rolls onto his side and slots his thigh between Kravitz', and he uses the pad of his thumb to smooth away the tears from Kravitz' eyes. He slides his other arm around Kravitz' neck, and pulls him close. Into his neck, he murmurs, "You  _ always _ get like this."

  
  


**33.**

They're standing on a tall and dangerous cliff and Taako says, "Am I going to die here?" And Kravitz says, "Only if you want to," and he curls his arm around Taako's waist and teases his scythe at the base of Taako's jaw, and the wind howls around them and the horizon is too foggy to hold the sky back or the sea down in any successful way, and Kravitz is so happy he feels like he's about to burst into song, and Taako's shaking in his arms, crying, begging, "Make it fast."

Sweat runs down Kravitz' face as he sits bolt upright, blankets falling through his body as he loses control over his physicality and Taako mumbling tiredly as he shifts in his sleep. Readjusting, because Kravitz bumped him.

There's the memory of lecherous pleasure snaking through Kravitz, and he hates it. He doesn't want Taako to die. He doesn't want to kill Taako. But he doesn't want any  _ other _ reaper killing Taako-- so, what does that mean? But he doesn't want Taako to be scared, when he's dying. When Taako dies he should die of old age and natural causes, happy, and proud of himself, and then he'll be safe because nothing can kill him, because he's dead.

"B'be?" Taako mumbles, "Y'good?"

"My life is weird," Kravitz answers, pulling the blankets back up through himself. "Go back to sleep."

He thinks it through and decides he's being possessive of a  _ moment. _ He supposes it's not too different from his sister, who planned her wedding down to the pantone of the groomsmen's ties, and had her dreams tied to the ideal of the ceremony. It's not too strange to be possessive of a moment, is it? Wanting one's fancy dinner to be perfect, obsessing over plans for a trip that you want to be just so. Planning a proposal. Planning a death.

Planning both at the same time.

"Taako? Do you think I'm a psychopath?"

  
  


**34.**

Merle points and asks, "What the hell is that?"

In Taako and Kravitz' entryway, on one of the many bright blue painted shelves (they did it themselves, second week after all the boxes finally got unpacked) is a medium-sized (badly made) clay pot, steaming with boiling hot water.

"Oh," Taako explains, "That's one of Kravitz' people stations."

Kravitz sticks his tongue out good-naturedly, and puts down the packages of leftovers that they were sending Merle, Mavis, and Mookie home with. "Didn't we agree to call them temperature hacks?"

"Sorry," Mavis laughs, " _ What? _ "

"Babe," Taako orders, "Demonstrate."

Kravitz holds out a hand and touches Mavis' wrist, and she shudders. Then Kravitz heads over to the shelf, dunks his hand into the boiling water, wipes off the droplets on his shirt, and then shakes Mavis' hand. She flinches away reflexively, but then her eyes open in surprise.

"Body temperature, right?" Taako grins, "Now, check this shit out." He gestures to Kravitz, who rolls his eyes, and then splashes his entire face nose-first into the bowl. He comes up for air, turns to Taako with a flirty wink only slightly ruined by the rivulets of water dropping down from his hair into his eyes, and then dips Taako down into an elaborate kiss. When they come back up for air, Taako's smirking self-satisfactorily, and Merle's laughing so hard he has to hold onto the doorknob for balance.

  
  


**35.**

Before he hangs up, Merle adds, "Oh. And Lucretia will be there."

Kravitz tenses. Beside him, in his sleep, Taako mutters something vague and pulls the pillow back over his head.

  
  


**36.**

Taako doesn't like Lucretia. He used to.

  
  


**37.**

They're storming up the front walk and Taako's slamming the door shut and Kravitz is kicking off his shoes so hard they hit the opposite wall and they're yelling at each other.

"I don't know why you can't just _ accept _ ," Kravitz spits, "That she's  _ friends with all your friends _ ."

"I can't accept that they've shoving her in my face! I don't give a fuck that the Scooby Gang kissed and made up, but they can keep that bullshit out of my face when I'm trying to eat dinner!"

"That bullshit?!" Kravitz is so furious he can hardly talk. "You were-- you were sneering, up in her face with your weird angry smile, telling her you were going to  _ kill her! _ She had a panic attack! Fuck you!  _ Fuck  _ you!"

Taako slams into the doorway and the screen dividing the hall from the living room cracks into the wall, denting the plaster, and Kravitz follows him, keeping pace, nearly stepping on his heels, and Taako flips around and starts walking backward in the exact same furious gait, hair flying out behind him, and his voice goes from an angry grind to a fake, insincere, cheerful lilt.

"Kill her? Is that what everybody though? I said  _ nothing _ of the sort, sweetheart! When I decide to kill her, you won't know! No one will! Until her name pops up on one of your cute little contracts,  _ boop _ !" He widens both his eyes and dramatically pops his fingers, before slashing his hands back to his sides, nails like claws.

"You--" Splutters Kravitz, more horrified and angry then he's ever been before, "You were nothing like yourself, you were behaving  _ disgracefully _ \--"

Taako stops moving and Kravitz slams into him, pushing them both into the door that leads out into the backyard. Taako grabs Kravitz by the tie and yanks him down until they're eye level. Taako's hands aren't shaking, but instead white-knuckled with tension and terrifyingly controlled. Kravitz realizes he's in skeleton form but doesn't particularly care to throw back up his glamour.

"Whatever the hell it is I do," Taako says, "It's like myself. Got it? 'Cause I  _ did it.  _ Maybe I'm disgraceful! And Lucretia didn't just rip me out of my damn mind and then pretend to save me from it so I could attend a mockery of some kind of twisted  _ family reunion _ two goddamn weeks later!"

"It's been considerably longer then  _ two weeks _ , and you  _ know that _ \-- You always act like I'm demanding something unreasonable, but I'm not asking you to forgive her; I'm asking you to act like an  _ adult _ , for two goddamn  _ seconds _ , and you're talking about  _ premeditated murder _ \--"

Taako turns and kicks the backyard door viciously open all in one swift movement, his leg wheeling up and slamming gratingly into the handle, every inch of his body just looking incensed; he flips off Kravitz and snarls, "You always get like  _ this. _ "

He casts Blink.

Kravitz crumples his hands into a fist and stands, shaking, in the doorway. He sees Tiny Bastard’s yarn ball lying a couple feet away and kicks it clear over the fence.

  
  


**38.**

When Taako hates something, he loves it also.

  
  


**39.**

Taako thinks he used to be beautiful. Kravitz thinks he used to be alive. Lup thinks she could replace Kravitz once he moves on. Barry thinks he's lucky.

The four of them have joint dinners, twice monthly. Lup talks about work. Kravitz directs the conversation away from work. They talk about television. They talk about childhood. Taako directs the conversation away from childhood. Barry talks too enthusiastically about necromancy and everyone pretends not to notice. Lup talks about how she and Taako divided the world in half when they were younger: there were two suns, so one for each; Lup got the deciduous trees, Taako got coniferous, Lup got the turtles, Taako got their shells, Lup got music, Taako got paint.

Taako picks at his food. He's the only one who can eat. He always cooks too much. He scrapes it into the compost, later, staring at the worm heads breaching the surface of waste and burying their smooth skin under the scraps again. He thinks about the awfulness of life: not the experience of possessing energy, but the difficulty of maintaining it. The pointlessness of eating, swallowing, excreting, seems even more prominent in the faces of his deceased family and the way they don't sit  _ quite  _ on the surface of the chairs, how they can't  _ quite _ make themselves look away as Taako eats.

The worms writhe.

  
  


**40.**

Joaquin Terrero is a boy with curly dark hair that hasn't been cut recently, who is wearing a t-shirt calling himself an "essential NPC," and he’s telling Lup that her pesto is too bland.

"Ok," Lup nods, tasting it, "But try this one on for size, big boy. I'm not interested in what you have to say. You fool. You arcane perversion."

"Sure. And I'm not one to diss my elders, but have you heard of this great new thing called pine nuts? I'm just not sure, because--"

"Oh, like this disgusting sort-- Sort of-- dog chew-- that you've created?"

"I think that introducing you two was what Jeffandrew, thank and praise him for our lives and souls, put me in this world to do. My purpose has been fulfilled." Taako sighs dreamily. Then, as if unable to help himself, "It's only a shame that neither of you have ever made decent pesto ever before."

Suddenly Joaquin and Lup turn into a united force and attack Taako as one, and Angus, Barry, and Kravitz turn to each other in bewilderment. Barry tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen door, and slips back out into the hall. Kravitz thinks that maybe having the whole gang together to properly meet Joaquin was a mistake. He genuinely can't tell if Taako plans to steal him away from his home planet and keep him or not, and even though he's been here a week, it's still unclear if he and Lup like each other or have sworn to be enemies forever. One thing that is painfully  _ not _ uncertain, however, is that--

"I hate him." Angus grumps. He crosses his arms across his chest. Kravitz and Barry make eye contact above his head, and Kravitz wins the stare down which means that Barry's the one that has to explain about jealousy and growing up.

"Are you sure?" Barry asks, carefully, "Sometimes, uh, when you're going through puberty-- It can be confusing, what you feel, about certain people--"

"Stop!" Angus looks horrified, "Whatever you're trying to say, stop trying to say it! And-- puberty? What the fuck? I’m, like, twenty seven-"

Barry nobly presses on. "-- And it's okay! No matter what you--"

"--I'm not  _ attracted _ to him! I'm expressing insecurity about where I stand with Sir, through jealousy of Joaquin's relationship with him! The 'hatred,' I claimed to express is really nothing more than an exploration of my dislike that Sir found someone else, a little older than myself and apparently more interesting to spend time with, and then Sir somehow used arcane magic that  _ he definitely didn't teach me how to do  _ to bring Joaquin through the dimensions! Just so they could hang out! And so while my emotions are illogical, Sir, you can abort the sex talk now!"

Kravitz and Barry make eye contact again, only this time Kravitz looks away first, which means that Barry can run away and hide while Kravitz has to stay and try to clean this mess up.

"Hey, no!" Joaquin, who followed them out into the hall (can Kravitz just die again) says, "Don't be ridiculous! Taako's always talking about you and how much he loves you, I've heard so much, and when we first met I was unbelievably intimidated? Like, according to everyone, you're the best detective in the whole  _ world _ . And Taako's said that you're apparently the Sheriff? Of all of Magic? So that's frankly terrifying. There's definitely no worry about my dumbass replacing you."

The hallway is dimly lit. Taako keeps saying he'll change the light bulb but hasn't for six months, and Kravitz refuses to do it out of principal. There's a bench tucked against the wall on one side, and the other side of the wall is like a Hydra of doors and hallways splitting off, and crammed into the same space are the stairs and the closet and two closets. Combined with Barry, shoved up into the bench, and Kravitz, hunched into the doorframe leading into the living room, not to mention Angus blocking most of the space in the hall and Joaquin, backlit in the kitchen, hands shoved deep into the pockets in his overalls (instead of the ones on his apron, for some reason), it's not the best place for an emotional heart-to-heart.

"Oh." Angus says, softly. "Did-- Did he say that?"

"Yeah. He's. He doesn't talk about other people a lot, you know how he is, but when he does-- Yeah."

"He likes you a lot too though. He says your style is really cool."

Joaquin grins. His teeth are snaggled. Angus blushes bright enough that Kravitz can see it in the bad light. Joaquin gestures back to the kitchen and yanks Angus back in, starting to babble happily about getting an unbiased witness to smite Lady Lup and her awful cooking.

Barry slumps against the wall. "Oh my  _ God. _ " He says.

"Oh my Jeffandrew." Corrects Kravitz. "Thank and praise him for our lives and souls."

From in the kitchen, Joaquin and Angus start laughing, probably at something Lup said. Their voices fit together like two different colour dyes, melting together in a pot. Barry hears it too and he and Kravitz smile at each other. Above, the light finally burns out. Kravitz, who is often cold, feels warm from the inside out.

  
  


**41.**

Lup got death. Taako got life. But they'd never expected to have those things at the same time.

  
  


**42.**

"So. When did ‘ya die? I feel like this was, like, the straight up  _ obvious _ question that I should've asked  _ first  _ in the getting to know process, but it seemed insensitive."

"I'm not sure. A while ago. I've been in the Raven Queen's service for... And then I was... Uh. 60 years ago, maybe? Not more then 70."

"Damn. Okay, okay."

"Are--"

"Nope. No, it's fine. Next question! If it's not-- again-- insensitive. How'd you die?"

"Pretty awful wasting illness. Everyone pretty much knew that there was no hope, but my siblings tried pretty hard. They got into necromancy and all that, uh, nasty business. Part of the darker stuff was how I ended up on the Raven Queen's radar in the first place."

"Siblings? You never mentioned havin' little tykes running around you, underfoot."

"Ha! This will sound pretty, uh, horrible? But I'm only vaguely sure they were older then me? And I can't remember their names. Which, yeah, shitty, but it's not a heartless thing. When I died and became a reaper, the Raven Queen messed with my memory a little bit to avoid, like, conflict of interest? And dying messes up your head more than you might expect. I appreciate it though. There's no way that my siblings ended up with the best possible ending after all the black magic, and as awful as this sounds, I'm glad I don't remember them super well to feel bad about it? But I've got memories of my life. Clear memories. Just, very specific ones. It's like not remembering what city you used to live in but being able to remember your bathroom in vivid detail."

"I never asked about your family. I should've."

"Nah. There was no reason to. You're my family now. And-- and it was a long time ago."

"Would I have liked them?"

"I'm pretty-- I'm pretty sure. My sister was a jerk sometimes, but she cared about people pretty fiercely. And my brother was funny."

"That's--"

"What?"

"Nothing. It's stupid."

"What?"

"I just-- thinking about family, and your life and-- It sounds like, uh, some people I. Almost worked for. And the shitty situation they ended up in. Well. You, Lup, and Barry are all immortal. And I'm not. We all knew that going in, but it just. It fucking sucks. I'm at the peak of my life, don't get me fuckin' wrong, I look great and feel  _ fantastic _ , but eventually I'll get old and start smelling gross as hell, and you and the idiot squad will reap my soul and that's game over. I guess. It's whatever, it's stupid."

"It's not stupid."

"I know  _ I'm _ not stupid, but don't try to tell me that the  _ situation _ isn't stupid."

"Okay, you're right. It's stupid. I guess I just don't understand your aversion to being a reaper. I-- No, come back, I didn't mean it that way-- I just--"

  
  


**43.**

"I laugh in the face of death," says Lup.

"I know," says Kravitz, "She hates when you do that."

  
  


**44.**

Lup and Barry are really helping the workload, but they're still new.  Let alone the 'last visit' disaster, Kravitz sees it in how Barry's too hesitant to do things, and Lup's too eager to do them. The way they want to listen when a soul asks for just ten minutes to say hello to their wife, kid, brother. And they're excitable, and a little bit sloppy. It's much nicer having them then it isn't, but sometimes Kravitz just wants to be handling the situation  _ himself _ , because-- okay-- maybe he's a little bit of a control freak, but also because--

"You're a  _ lich _ !" Kravitz shrieks, "How did you become a  _ hostage _ ?"

Barry opens his mouth to wail something in protest, or so Kravitz assumes, but the growling mass of immaterial criminal intent that's got him bundled in the heaping pile of tentacle that makes up 75% of it's anatomy, rips Barry sideways though the air and smashes his head into a tree. Barry buckles, twitches, and goes limp. From the other side of the monster, Kravitz hears Lup's furious scream.

"You mother _ fucker _ !" She howls, "I'll kick your ass! I'll kill you!"

Kravitz shouts, "Stay  _ BACK _ ," knowing that it's a lost cause already, and sure enough, there's the unmistakable ozone smell that comes just before Lup casts one of her huge spells-- Lightning cracks through the creature and out the other side, which Kravitz slashes through horizontally with his scythe. He grits his teeth, feeling his legs buckle as he's pushed back. Physical attacks can't hurt this thing, and it's immune to elemental strikes. Kravitz is absolutely positive he told them this at the briefing.

Behind the creature, Lup screams again. The noise tapers to snarls low in her throat, and the air starts to dance electric down the back of Kravitz' neck. The situation is getting so wildly out of hand that it's approaching the upper arm.

Kravitz jumps into the air, flashes his scythe in front of him and follows the tail end of the blade through a flip. He springs off the tree at the base of which lies Barry, speeding up and slashing his weapon through the gooey mass of his opponent. He ricochets off a tree on the opposite end of the clearing, back flipping back into the thick of the melee again and repeating the move. He releases his glamour and slashes his free hand into metal claw-tip fingers, and tears the creature into ten distinct pieces, which land on the ground around him like strips of wet kelp.

He vanishes his scythe. He flips back a stray piece of hair and pokes at a strip of rubbery flesh, waiting for the soul to limp out of it's conjured body and try to run again. It doesn’t take long. The monstrosity unfolds out of the earth like an opening umbrella; heads popping like flowers tethered by willowy necks, all collecting at a flappy collection of loose shoulders, pillowing the rest of the bodies, which are all melted together in an amassment of proportions like a Picasso brought to life. It's obvious that what happened here wasn't just an escape attempt, but a well organized one that took planning and dedication and no small knowledge of the arcane arts. The Raven Queen doesn't usually let things like this happen, but she's been going on and on about retiring. Maybe she wasn't joking.

Sending all the souls back as if none of this ever happened just won't do. Kravitz would be remiss if he just hand-waved this, or slapped everyone on the metaphorical wrist. There's not usually an escape attempt of this proportion, and one occurring means that one of these souls rounded everyone up together, tricked them or convinced them or promised them something shining and new, and then they followed him. Moulded their souls into a Frankenstein of raw power and incoherence. Identities, sold for a slim chance at freedom.

Kravitz steps forward. He makes himself non-threatening and tired. It's not difficult to do.

Before him, the creature shuffles its millipedian feet. Many legs, clacking together; torsos, roughly laid together like planks, flinch from his outstretched hand. When he doesn't do anything, a small childlike head that's protruding, bulbous, from an isolated rib cage, presses their forehead into Kravitz' hand like it's seeking comfort. There's a clattering of exhalation. A second of surprised relief. And then Kravitz tears the head clean off the rest of the body, pulls up his empty hand and finger-gun shoots the creature. Pieces of the body fall apart, a hand, eyes, fingers peeling up from the bone and dropping leaf-like, until the ground is a gory mess and Kravitz is standing in the middle of it. He waves a hand and the soul is absorbed into the ground.

Barry sits up and rubs his head.

"What happened?" He wheezes, "Lup-- Did Lup get it?"

Lup sits down, hard, on the ground. She wraps her arms around her knees and stares at Kravitz. There's a distance in her eyes, a wariness in her position. Her hair has fallen loose and strands of it cling to her cheek.

"No. Kravitz killed it." Barry tilts his head confusedly, opens his mouth to ask a question, and Lup shakes her head vehemently. "I'll tell you later," she interrupts, "But not now. I can't, right now."

Kravitz feels like he's supposed to reassure them that they did well, but he's never been one for liars.

"If you don't start listening to me when I talk," he says, "We're going to have problems."

He smiles to be reassuring. Barry flinches.

  
  


**45.**

"I was given a pretty difficult choice when I was faced with the career of being a bounty hunter for the goddess of death. I didn't grow up wanting to be that, of course."

"Who does?"

"No. I wanted to be a conductor. But unfortunately, you know, just... Life finds a way. Or death, I guess. The Goddess of Death."

"In this case specifically, yeah, death."

Time passes, then later:

"Sweetums-- that choice, the death choice? The difficult one? What was the other option? Employment under Big Bird, or what?"

"Hmm.  Ground rule, right now, babe? Never again call the Raven Queen Big Bird. Anyway.  I don't really remember, but she gets all her contracts in pretty extenuating circumstances. I can almost guarantee you the other option was death."

"Well you died anyway, so rough deal, huh babe? Read the fine print next time, dippy!"

"Yeah, yeah. You laugh but the terms of my employment are actually-- well-- I'm not super sure what they are?"

"You're  _ what _ ?"

"It's-- it's trust based, Taako."

"Christ! Immortals! If I was in charge, you better fuckin' believe I'd run a  _ tight ship _ . S.S. Taako, running on schedule, where everything makes sense. Just like my wicked awesome magic school. My school is so great, Krav. Are-- actually, are you aware of my awesome school? You're always saying-- Kravitz?"

"Yes?"

"Take the day off tomorrow, and visit my awesome school. My awesome wizard school."

"I agree! I'm agreeing!"

  
  


**46.**

Congealed viscera is difficult to get out of robes, no matter how many times you cast Create Water, and no matter how determined you are to ignore your boss laughing at you.

"I'm doing my best!" Kravitz complains, "It's not my fault! This is all on you."

The Raven Queen, lounging on her throne and cawing smugly, does not deign to reply. Her cackle is interrupted by a cough, a rattling hack, and Kravitz freezes. She doesn't seem like she can breathe; he runs up and pounds her a couple times hard on the back. Kravitz can't feel a pulse, and kicks himself upon remembering that she never has one. Neither of them do.

She caws again, meekly. Kravitz releases his iron grip on her wing and steps back, feeling shaky. They meet eyes. The Raven Queen resettles herself, flexes her feet and drags her claws along the foot of her throne. A feather drifts to the ground. Black, oily.

"That's new," he accuses, suspecting that it isn't new at all.

His Queen is tall, inscrutable, jeopardous, impressive. Kravitz reaches up and rubs her beak. She clacks contentedly, a gentle amusement in her posture, as if humouring the whims of a small child, and then nudges him away. She blinks, straightens the crown on her head, and all vulnerability vanishes. That's how she is. Gentle until she chooses not to be. Kind, sometimes. Just, always. Intrepid.

And recently, Kravitz worries, old.

  
  


**47.**

“Life only has meaning because it ends.” Taako says. It’s the continuation of an old argument.

Kravitz looks up from his reading.

“It will.”

“When?”

“It  _ will _ .”

Utter silence from Taako. Kravitz almost manages utter stillness.

Taako says, “And then what?”

Kravitz flips the page. “You keep going.”

  
  


**48.**

The sun is setting as Kravitz gets home. He steps heavily onto the grass and melts into one of the chairs they keep out back. Fireflies brush sweetly against the flowers, each other, and Taako, who's gardening. Kravitz stretches his legs out as far as they extend and strains his arms over his head. Yawns.

"Day sucked," he starts, "The bounties are getting too crafty for their--"

"I'm terrified that my death will be arbitrary," Taako blurts, "That, that I'll pass over, or whatever the fuck, and our house will still be there, and the-- the birdfeeders will still be there, the, the compost bins out back-- and you'll still love me, and I'll have Lup, and I'll-- I'll see  _ Angus  _ again? God, I miss him, I miss him so-- fuckin' much-- and Magnus will be there, and we'll bicker and he'll, I don't even know, do dumb stuff probably, and-- and it'll just be  _ better _ , or worse,  _ the same _ , and I'll cook and you'll eat, and you'll hold my hand and it'll be warm?"

Taako drops the spade in his hand. His arm is trembling down to the quick. Down to the bone. Kravitz can't move, he can't think. And Taako is still going.

"Because, because what if I'm  _ dead _ and that-- that doesn't matter? God. Not to, to be ungrateful, or-- I'm not making sense, but-- I don't want to be symmetry, okay? I don't want to live life in a circle. Peak in the middle, like some kind of fuckin' parabola, and--"

He scrubs his face.

"Let me start over. It's. It's, why am I alive? Why am I fucking trying?"

Kravitz stands up and makes his way slowly over to Taako. The grass is wet. He sits down on it. After a second, so does Taako. Their shoulders bump together as they both lean in at the same time.

Crickets chirp. The sprinkler dances light into rainbows and the shimmery mist that smells like morning.

"I'm terrified for you to die. I'm grieving you. Pre-emptively? That's-- that's what's been weird with me lately? It took me so long to realize how I felt, because I can't remember ever having actually mourned anyone before. And I've got all this stuff going on with, with the Raven Queen, and you mean so much to me, and. And much in the vein you were talking about, what if you die and we-- we carry on, and it turns out that life wasn't important at all? Like life--"

"--Life as energy, as opposed to  _ awareness _ ; like what's with you, you're 'undead,' but you're not, not really  _ dead,  _ you're still  _ around _ \--"

"--And that's what. What scares me? Because death, for the living, is this huge barrier; this horrible and impossible chasm, the black void from which all is Unmade. But you've got your whole family with you and my nine-to-five is with death, and you've got more of a view into the underworld than the, the regular, and I know it's impacting you -- this is more than-- than anyone should have to possibly deal with."

Taako blinks at the back of his hands. His eyelashes are soft on his cheeks. Insubstantial.

"I don't want to find out that there isn't a difference between life and death. I don't want to find out that I could've been alive or dead, this whole time, and that it wouldn't have mattered; and that nothing would've changed."

And that's the bulk of the problem, really.  
The indignity of aging, for someone who takes so long to age.

Taako says, "I miss Merle."

  
  


**49.**

Kravitz wakes up in a haze. He feels like glass a centimeter away from his skin separates him from the bed sheets. Taako's lying beside him. His skin isn't warm, or hot, and neither are the covers. Kravitz gets up and walks to the mirror. He realizes that he's sunk in the floor up to his mid-shin. He floats upward. Adjusts. His reflection blinks back at him. His reflection and Kravitz feel like very separate entities. It's late. Or early. It's easier to keep time around Taako then it is to care about the clocks, and Taako is asleep. Kravitz stands there for a while.

In the mirror Taako walks up. Taako puts a hand on Kravitz shoulder and it sinks right through, like there's nothing there, like it's air. Kravitz feels heavy. He feels light.

"Rank the bad, babe." Taako says.

Kravitz hasn't blinked since he woke up, and he does now, for practice. "Six?"

Their bedroom is rich. The bed is a four-poster, with hangings, opulent red curtains that they keep drawn unless they're having sex. The carpet is plush and the walls are a soft golden. Kravitz' eyes keep getting lost in the walls. Following the cracks down to the wine stain in the carpet from when Taako spilled a glass by hitting it with a wayward pillow that'd been aimed at Kravitz, and then following the stain to the bedside table. He remembers he was talking to Taako and his gaze ambles back over.

"You?" Kravitz asks.

"Eh. Same as yesterday. Four."

They look at each other. Taako's wearing the same clothes he's worn for the last three days, and his hair is a bundled knot on top of his head. His eyes seem sunk into his head and his mouth is drawn out, thin. By unspoken agreement they go back to bed. Taako's limbs tuck and tie into each other until he's a small ball on his side of the bed, looking delicate and spindly against the sheets. The huge pillow. The blanket pooled between the two of them feels like an insurmountable distance, and Kravitz gets lost in the whorls and piles of it, like a mountain range.

Taako's phone starts to ring and they both watch it until it hits voicemail and then for a while after that.

"Eight." Kravitz corrects, quietly. He says it to his hands. He can see the bed through them and feels the draft from the open window blow through his spine and down into his kidneys.

Taako says, "I wish I could hold you." He's also looking at Kravitz' hands. "You fading away on me?"

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Taako pulls the curtains shut again, and casts Mage Hand to irritably yank the window closed. "I feel like I'm going to wake up one of these days and you're going-- Like you'll--"

"What. Die?"

"Fuck you, idiot." His eyes are serious. He's got a dignified nose. He pulls the blankets up around him and studies Kravitz carefully. "I know this is a bad day for you but-- and this has been on my mind for, for a while, but what happens when I die?'

Kravitz blinks for the second time. He feels like Taako's on an island and Kravitz is on a boat driving by, and they're screaming at each other through a heavy fog.

"When you die? It's different for everyone, and I can't-- I can't tell you, about--"

"No, fuck that noise. I mean. What happens to  _ us _ when I'm dead?"

"I haven't. I haven't thought about it." This is a lie. Of course he has.

Taako's mouth twists to one side darkly. "I have."

"We'll have to move, obviously. I don't know about permanent housing over there, but we could, could build something. Probably. And in regards to our relationship, there might be a special expectation because of my standing, but if not, I'll retire. Lup and Barry have been doing great, I don't foresee problems with my replacement."

"Yeah. Barry's taken to it with unexpected delight, and I think Lup's found her ultimate destiny in this line of work." He says it like it's a funny thing children are doing in the sandbox. Kravitz would normally do something here, but he can't figure out what he's supposed to feel in response to things.

"You still don’t want to become a Reaper?"

Taako crinkles his nose and, again, Kravitz can't figure out what it means. This feels like something important that they should come back to. Later.

"It's back on the table."

Kravitz wants to say something more reassuring but he can't think what that might be. And then, "I can tell you, though, there'll be a fight for your soul. Are you kidding me? Barry's behind on the scoreboard, and Lup's tied with me, but by the time you die I bet we'll be pretty close. If you run for it then you'll get us chasing after you like the three stooges."

Taako cackles, high and pleased, before settling back into a smug grin. "I should hope so," he preens, and then, because Kravitz must look really upset or something, "I'll throw myself into your buff arms. Of course. And you'll carry me across the planar threshold into our new death together."

Kravitz sees something wet streak through his hand and hit the sheet with a splash. Taako's face goes gentle and amused, and Kravitz knows he's crying, knows it even before Taako's lips curve back into a jagged line.

"Oh, here we go." Taako says. "You always get like this."

  
  


**50.**

It could have happened a lot of ways, but it did happen like this.

 

("You ain't a wizard, huh Krav? You some kinda-- Some kinda  _ sorcerer _ thing, or--")

He doesn't remember it, but Kravitz had the kind of remarkable, rare, life, that means that there are very many people at your funeral. At Kravitz' was three separate orchestras, teachers and a multitude of friends, a fiancé, and all manner of extended family. The Cleric was a personal friend, and the ranks of mourners were swelled with colleagues, admires, and the many lives that Karvitz' orbited around, bumped into, and loved during his years.

His lifetime was beautiful, and short.  
He sang. He dreamed.

Once graduated from college, there were seven separate prestigious companies wooing him with internships and entry-level positions. The one he went with promised the chance for promotion, and the chance to play his own compositions if he was good and kept his head down.

Edward and Lydia were proud of him. Edward was proud of him when Kravitz did anything, and Lydia was proud of him when he was proud of himself. And their support was a constant undercurrent in Kravitz' life, something to count on and to appreciate. Their Mom was out of the picture. They wished their Dad was.

His funeral was held on a day that was dry but humid. The ground was dusty and crumbly in the hands of the mourners. Edward's tongue felt dry and crumbly in his mouth. The Cleric was sweaty under his collar.

"Today is a solemn day," he had said, "And it is one of loss. But it is not a day of sadness. Today, our grief comes from love. What is our despair, other then a Holy acknowledgment of how much Keetz means to us? Without his beautiful life, and without the time we spent together, we would not feel the pain we do on this day. And yet, would we want that? To not feel as awful as we do? Because as time goes on, our grief will turn to gentleness and tenderness, and our memories with Keetz will not fade. And in the next plane, we will share in joy and love."

Lydia's speech was brief and upsetting. "We can fix this," she had wobbled, and repeated it, as tears dripped down her cheek, "It's okay, it's all going to be okay, I can fix it."

And then Edward took the stage. Tall, skinny, gaunt in the cheeks and false in the eyes. He looked at the coffin and then measured it with his thumb. "It's cramped in there," he'd mumbled, "Bet it's too small. Like his shoes. He always wore shoes that were too small, he'd get attached, not want to buy new ones..."

 

Kravitz doesn't remember it, but in his final hours of life, he dragged his sibling's necromantic texts out of the closet where they were 'hidden,' and he cut his wrist open with his teeth to drip blood; smearing it into a summoning circle with blank staff paper.

The Raven Queen had stood above him. She wasn’t, then she was there. Monolithic. Her beak carved of stone, her claws dangerously close to Kravitz' heart. She held her staff like an empress. Her silhouette had been like something from a theatre poster: a villain, curling from the dark, a threat of danger spiked with intrigue.

"You dare." She had boomed.

Kravitz had told her, "I'm dying soon. I'd like to make a deal."

("I'm a warlock? I'm super obviously a warlock?")

 

What Kravitz  _ does _ remember is this. Standing up out of a corpse with his face on it. A Goddess, immense and powerful and bemused, brushing her hand against his forehead as a mother takes the temperature of a small child.

He doesn't remember the deal he made, but he knows he made one. The Raven Queen calls it a contract, and herself she calls Boss.

Kravitz asks what she plans to call him.

She says, "Kravitz."

"Was that my name before I died?" He probes, and The Raven Queen laughs softly in the back of her throat. He turns the name over in his mind. K, a sharp hook, 'rav,' like an engine. The finalé:  _ ITS _ . Each time he goes over it, the sound is better and more right. Something given to him by his patron. A new start. A gift.

It's not a title he picked for himself, but it's one that he conceivably might have, if given the opportunity. Kravitz picks up other names as he goes on: titles, insults and honours, all of which he uses interchangeably. Spectre. Reaper. Warlock. Necromancer. The bounty hunters treat him like colleagues, and probably they are-- but they receive orders from a middle-man, and Kravitz does what the Raven Queen tells him to directly. A degree of separation is between him and everyone else; a significant one that can’t be tiptoed around with pleasantries. He’s content with the work. That’s all that he has.

And the universe lies like that for awhile.  
But then some other things happen.

**Author's Note:**

> the featured, fantastic, fiercely recommended, songs in this work are:  
> -'Take Me,' by MISO (playing in 2, as our celebrity couple celebrates the removal of the gogurt curse) and  
> -'Black Mambo,' by Glass Animals (sung by kravitz in 19, Because I Just Had To And It's My City Now)
> 
> so!! this has a second section with another 50 pieces, but from taako's perspective, and that'll be up Eventually. i'm doing nano in november w/a personal project, and when i've got the time, you'll get the rest! so the cliffhanger has a resolution but not Right Now. sorry folks and thanks in advance for your patience.
> 
> love you all! <3 let me know your thoughts in the comments gaymers, and don't forget to SMASH that like button ;)


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